


a garden in bloom

by jackson_potter179



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: Beth and Rio, F/M, I am really proud of this for some reason, in a flower shop, in modern day, with persephone and hades vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26723419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackson_potter179/pseuds/jackson_potter179
Summary: It was almost impossible for him to have appeared without notice, and more so, without Beth noticing; when your life was as dull as hers anything even slightly exciting garnered attention. Especially if the distraction came in the form of an attractive stranger, slightly trespassing, but at this point, Beth would take whatever she could. And yet somehow, appear without her noticing he did; not a bell or whistle to be heard.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	a garden in bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Meaning and Symbolism:
> 
> Lilies: often symbolizing motherhood/the mother flower  
> Gladiolus: Strength of character  
> Daffodil: purity, new beginnings, rebirth, eternal life  
> Dahlia: symbol of change, warning  
> Sunflower: flexibility, opportunity  
> Hyacinth: sincerity  
> Fungi: loneliness, resilience  
> Peony: masculinity, bravery  
> Carnation (red): Deep romantic love  
> Celandine: Joy to come, eventual happiness  
> Yellow rose: Intense emotion

There were only so many times you could pick flowers before the innocence of gardenia white grew dull. With a wedding every week, and Beth picking flowers for everyone, a task that once seemed exciting, fun and inventive as a child had become dull and monotonous. As it turned out, working at her mother's flower shop was not as exciting as it may have seemed at the age of seven. Though there were many colour opportunities that awarded themselves to her, each and every one had been thought of, done and then re-done many a time. Another wedding, another Wednesday.

However, it was on this day - which started as all others did - that the change that Beth prayed, hoped and even begged for arrived. Her respite from dullness appeared in the form of a man. Although incredibly cliche and trite, Beth could not have known that destiny itself had blown into her shop, not unlike a Dahlia bowing to the warm Mexican breeze.  
At first glance there was nothing particularly strange about him. His wiry frame was held with confidence - it was as if he was a bird, at any moment ready to take flight.  
He wore a simple button up shirt that, despite its implication, looked anything but white-collar. He had an energy common to those that were most wealthy, and with a more in depth look she noticed that his hair acted strangely, it seemed vaguely tangible, almost flickering in and out of existence at the ends. In combination it gave his entire being a sense of magnaminty and darkness. 

He stood directly on the large mass of land that stretched the entire outdoor area of the shop. It was almost impossible for him to have appeared without notice, and more so, without Beth noticing; when your life was as dull as hers anything even slightly exciting garnered attention. Especially if the distraction came in the form of an attractive stranger, slightly trespassing, but at this point, Beth would take whatever she could. And yet somehow, appear without her noticing he did. Not a bell or whistle to be heard. 

And so, it was this strange man, with his strange hair and very un-strange button down shirt that drew Beth’s attention away from her neglected lilies. He stood near the Dahlia’s, their vibrant purple only just coming through. It had not been their best season, almost on the edge of death but still fighting - it was almost like mother nature herself could not decide. Much of the crop had already died and it was give or take whether the rest would come to bloom or not.

The man did not speak, he only gazed at the field, admiring the Gladiolus that Beth cared ever so much for. He strayed from the hyacinth but was certainly more drawn to the un-bloomed Dahlia’s. However, from Beth’s perspective, as a born florist she certainly wanted to steer him closer to the Pinedrops; the only fungi deemed worthy of a flower shop.

It was in this time, wherein she observed him and he observed the flowers that no one said a word.  
Finally, when he looked up to speak it was with no inflection. He was confident in his words and they drew her in, though his words required very little actual attention to understand.  
“Hello. Are you a florist?”  
“Apprentice - actually. Sorry sir, but customers are not allowed back here, so if you are interested in making a purchase perhaps I can lead you back to the shop.”  
He raised his eyebrow mockingly, perhaps amused at his title. This irritated Beth for she hated to be patronized or mocked; she got enough of that from her sister thank you very much. She led him back to the shop, walking in front but keeping a close eye on his shadow to confirm that he was indeed following.

They made it to the storefront quickly, and she stepped aside to let him in first. His eyebrow once again raised but he walked on, chin held up and an aura about him that spoke of an unwavering consequence.

“Okay, what can I help you with, now that you are not wandering in our garden?”, Beth asked this with perhaps a bit of bite in her voice, but to be fair the gardens were her safe space, and his intrusiveness felt strangely personal. 

From a young age she learnt that nothing would bloom in her womb, no matter how much wanting or pleading she did. She truly treated the flowers as if they were her children, and like any good mother, she would become enraged if you messed with her own.

“I would like to buy some flowers”, said the strange man. It seemed that it was not the breeze outside that manipulated his hair so, as it was able to flicker under the fluorescent light of the shop as well. Despite her attention being on his hair, Beth rolled her eyes at his answer. They were in a flower shop; no duh he was here for greenery.

“Any in particular..?”

“Perhaps you could decide for me?”. This was something Beth could get on board with.  
She prided herself on her knowledge of flower meanings, and her ability to read people. She hmm’ed as she gazed around the store and shot out from behind the counted towards the peonies, the daisies (oxeye, of course), red carnations and the celadines. She also ran out to get some of the pine drops. The combination was odd; the colors ran together like paint running down a sink drain however he only widened his smirk into a small grin and nodded at the selection.

“Bag or box?”, she asked, already reaching for the square black box.

“Box, please.” Well, at least he was polite. If you ignored the whole trespassing thing.

“Is this for someone? A girlfriend perhaps?”, his grin widened at this point and his eyes darkened.

“No, just for me. To liven up the house.”, She hmm’ed absentmindedly as she wrapped the collection of flowers and made precise lines with the scissors. When she had finished wrapping she told him the price, and their transaction from that point on had been pretty normal. He left the shop without so much as a goodbye over his shoulder and Beth was actually left quite disappointed. 

But, without warning he appeared the next week, in the square of daffodils. This was the first week he said her name - Elizabeth. His voice rough like gravel, but reaching her ears soft like silk. She felt it was only reasonable to ask his name in return. Three letters seemed so short for a man whose mere presence filled the room, whose smile could say a thousand things and who could communicate approval or disapproval through a grunt or bodily shuffle.

The next week, it was the white tulips, the heel of his sneakers squashing one of the flowers. This was the first time they touched. The brush of his fingers down her face lingered with her for hours. As goodbyes went, it was perhaps her favourite.

The following week he sat in the shop, making bouquets of yellow roses, while Beth laughed and spoke, his words coming in snippets but his smile small and constant. This continues until the final week he appeared with no warning, however at this point he needn’t give one; holding a bouquet of Primrose in the long since wilted field of Dahlias.


End file.
